


The Best Worst Week

by nightlyRain



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Humanstuck, John is trans, M/M, Trans!John, also kind of mentions periods???, and also only rated teen+ bc it has Karkat and therefore swearing, but isn't going to end up following the prompt apparently, it's really fucking gay, john apparently isn't on any kind of hormone therapy, like really cheesy fluff, my poor son, non-sburb AU, oh yeah also it's prompted, rereading this it's actually surprisingly not bad, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7327363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlyRain/pseuds/nightlyRain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is particularly upset because of trans boy things, and Karkat, concerned, tries to comfort him by making him brownies and tea and watching shitty movies with him and cuddling and kissing him until his shitty dysphoria-causing, bleeding, throbbing genitalia aren't even on his mind anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Worst Week

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/86250820385/imagine-person-a-begging-person-b-to-go-somewhere (even though it didn't end up following the prompt; John was supposed to be person a and Karkat was supposed to be person b, and then it was supposed to be Karkat trying to cheer John up by taking him to a carnival but noooo I like shitty domestic crap better)
> 
> I got sick of scrolling through the JohnDave tag to keep myself awake so I decided to write something and JohnKat ended up fitting better (besides, I shipped it first) and I'm sure it kind of sucks or really sucks so I'm sorry

     Your name is John Egbert, and  _god,_ your cramps are particularly bad this month; and it's only the first day. You go to roll over, succeeding only in rolling off the bed and taking your blanket with you. Figures. You're too lazy to get up, though, so you just lay there in indescribable pain for what feels like days, but is probably at most an hour or two, until your boyfriend comes in.

     "Oh, shit, John, what are you doing on the floor?" Karkat questions, walking over and going to pick you up, but you curl up into a ball, concentrating your weight into one place efficiently enough so he can't lift you. Picking up on the fact that you don't want to be picked up, Karkat sighs and sits down next to you. "John." You don't respond. "John, are you okay?"

     You bury your face in your knees and let out a muffled "mmfh" noise, and you can hear the agitation added to his concern when he responds, "John, you absolute dickwad, answer me! I'm worried about you, damnit."

     "Leave me alone, Karkat," is your muffled response. You listen as he gets up, not grumbling for once, but when he walks away, you can tell by the stiff pattern of his footsteps that you've irritated him almost as much as you've worried him. You roll over again, lowering a hand to clutch at your throbbing abdomen. You groan loudly, inverbally complaining to no one but yourself about the pain.

     After what might've been only a few minutes, or up to an hour and a half, you hear Karkat's footsteps again. He leans down and tries to pick you up, and this time you let him, sighing loudly. He carries you to the living room, and sits down, setting you in his lap. On the coffee table in front of you is a plate of triple chocolate brownies, so warm they're visibly melty, with a mug full of warm tea next to it. He's also set several water bottles and containers of various painkillers, including ibuprofen, Midol, Tylenol, and so on, next to the plate and mug. You blink up at him.

     "I wasn't sure if you were in pain or not," he answers without you asking, smiling sheepishly, "so I tried to provide medications that'd help no matter what the problem was, and I had a feeling that one specifically--" he gestured at the Midol, "--would help because I'm pretty sure I know what the problem is; please don't think bad of me for assuming if I'm wrong, and uh, I know I'm kind of a shitty boyfriend sometimes, but-"

     "Shut up," you tell him, leaning in to give him a nice big smooch on the cheek, and he blushes a little. "You're such a sappy romantic, Karkat," you hum, smiling a little already, and lean on him.

     "Well, imagine the kind of shit it'd put on my reputation if I wasn't," he starts, and you just kiss him before he starts rambling again.

     "What I mean is," you start as you break away from each other, "I love you too. Thank you."

     "You're welcome."

     The rest of the day consists mostly of comfortable silence, as you turn and take some Midol, then start on the brownies and tea, feeding a few of the chocolatey pastries to the huge dork who you've decided has to be just about the sweetest boyfriend in the history of existence. He takes them eagerly; he loves chocolate almost as much as you do. After a while, he turns on the TV, and ditches his romcom collection for some of your favourites, including numerous Nic Cage movies and Ghostbusters (1 _and_ 2), and even a few Matthew McConaughey movies.

     After binge-watching as many movies you like as Karkat can possibly handle (maybe even a couple  _more_ than he can handle, he seems awfully disgusted by their terribleness by the time you're done, which just makes you appreciate the movie marathon more because he did it purely for your enjoyment), he encourages you to take a shower, because "you'll feel better afterwards. Plus, you won't smell like you just crawled out of a fucking bog, I'm sorry but you seriously stink right now," and promises to throw a towel and your blanket and even a fresh set of clothes in the dryer so when you get out they'll be warm. And he does it.

     And later, when you're falling asleep, wearing his turtleneck because he left it for your comfort (although he'll claim it was an accident later, you know he's shivering for you on his way home and you couldn't appreciate it more if you tried), all you can think about is how glad you are that he came over when your dad called as he left for work, to let him know you were having "trouble," and how good his sweater smells, and how you could only be happier if he had stayed the night, though you understand he couldn't, and just how much you love him. You cuddle up to your blanket, which also smells faintly of him now, and hum contently. You know it'll be worse tomorrow, but he promised to visit early and do what he could to get his dad's permission to stay at your house for the rest of the week. You know he'll be able to cheer you up.

     Even when you don't want to cheer up, he finds a way.


End file.
